


Sure, Fine, Whatever

by yet_intrepid



Category: Supernatural, The X-Files
Genre: Fan Dean, Fan Sam, Gen, Pre-Series, Pre-Stanford, Stanford Era, X-Files References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_intrepid/pseuds/yet_intrepid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's so used to geeking out with Dean that the smallest things make him want to pull out his phone and say, "I got a new theory. Zombies just come back from being dead so they can do all the things they miss from when they were alive."</p><p>(Not a crossover, just Sam and Dean being X-Files fans together.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sure, Fine, Whatever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercuryhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/gifts).



> Pretty much all you have to know about the X-Files to understand this fic is that one time FBI agents Scully and Mulder call each other about zombies while both in bubble baths, and pretend they are totally not both in bubble baths.

“Dude,” says Dean, swatting playfully at the back of Sam’s wet head, “that wasn’t a shower. That was so long, it was a freaking bubble bath.”

“Hey,” Sam retorts, “a guy’s gotta have bubble baths sometimes. Where else am I going to call the FBI about zombies and get told that monsters are all  _projections of our own repressed cannibalistic and sexual fears and desires_?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ve told you a hundred times. I’m Mulder, okay. That means the line about projections of repressed cannibalism and whatnot? Your line. Agent Scully.”

“Sure,” Sam starts skeptically, but then he can’t help laughing and finishing up with his best Scully impersonation. “Fine. Whatever.”

——

Dean’s already half-yelling into the phone when Sam picks up.

“We got the wrong goddamn grave, dude! Ghost is pissed and I’m running out of ammo here. Just locked myself into one of those building things with a salt line, but I need you to get on that research—stat, okay?”

Sam’s moving across the room. “I’m at the computer looking it up right now.”

There’s a brief silence, then a laugh, near-hysterical with adrenaline. “Yeah, right, and I’m packing for D.C. Drain the bubbles, Sammy.”

Sam doesn’t reply. He’s too busy typing.

——

“I’m going to take a bubble bath,” Jess says, and Sam’s heart slams up against some invisible wall but he smiles up at her and says, “okay.” The warm smell of the sunlit apartment mixes with a floating scent of peach and jasmine body wash.

Sam tries to think of Jess putting up her hair, of the bubbles gathering around her soft shoulders. Thinks, maybe he should go in and kiss her. But the idea of the bubble bath is sacred, somehow. Insofar as Sam relates to it, it belongs only to FBI agents with their mirror-image curly-corded phones.

Jess is humming in the bathtub, something soft and cheerful, and Sam pulls out his cell phone. He hesitates there, Dean’s number highlighted on the screen, his hand hovering over the call button.

But hell, what would he say?  _When zombies try to eat people, that’s just the first stage…it’s just that we never stay with them long enough to see the gentler side of the undead._

Sure, that’d be a great conversation starter. Sure.

Sam exits the call screen.

Fine, he thinks.

Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: I've never watched X-Files. I just have a friend who pesters me about how it can relate to Supernatural, and I've done some research to help me get stuff right. Sam and Dean being fans is pretty much my favorite.


End file.
